


Silver Linings

by Liu



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Hartley sucks as a thief, M/M, also AU where David is freshly single
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5068420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liu/pseuds/Liu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David doesn’t particularly relish the idea of another night spent in the apartment that is too big for one man, neither is he proud of the sixpack of beer tucked under his arm, but hey, he’s a grown-ass man. And if he wants to get half-drunk and feel sorry for himself while waiting to pass out on the couch, because he can no longer sleep in the bed he used to share with Rob… then nobody’s there to stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Linings

**Author's Note:**

> Fic fill for my '200 followers' giveaway, as requested by [nova-arcania](http://nova-arcania.tumblr.com/) :)

The tiny grocery store is almost serene in its near emptiness. Nobody needs to go shopping at one in the morning – nobody but worn-out men dead-set on fulfilling their destiny of a lonely cop with a budding drinking problem. David doesn’t particularly relish the idea of another night spent in the apartment that is too big for one man, neither is he proud of the sixpack of beer tucked under his arm, but hey, he’s a grown-ass man. And if he wants to get half-drunk and feel sorry for himself while waiting to pass out on the couch, because he can no longer sleep in the bed he used to share with Rob… then nobody’s there to stop him.

 

Nobody’s there, period.

 

David vindictively grabs a ‘family-size’ pack of the greasiest chips found in this place and tries to think of all the tofu he doesn’t have to eat anymore. He looks up into the mirror hanging at an angle from the ceiling to let the store manager keep an eye on things; judging by the sound of some bad reality show filling the narrow spaces in the aisles, the guy’s not exactly doing a stellar job. David watches his haggard face and wonders, for what feels like a millionth time since Rob left, if maybe the guy had been right. Maybe David _is_ working too much – but it’s not like he can do anything about it. He’s in a position of power, of responsibility, and if Rob couldn’t deal with the fact that for David, protecting the city would always come first, then maybe they weren’t such a great match after all.

 

Still, it’s a pretty shitty thing to find out while down on one knee in front of a man he thought he’d be allowed to love for the rest of his life.

 

David raises his hand to grab a pack of donuts – and his eyes subconsciously flash back to the mirror, to a hooded figure in the next aisle, turning around and acting altogether shifty. With a sigh, David wishes he could turn off his cop instincts for at least one night: but if he could, maybe he’d still be happily complaining about the cost of free-range eggs over a plate of curried quinoa right now.

 

He moves slowly to the next aisle: the guy in the hood immediately looks up at him and his panicked eyes tell David all he needs to know, even before the guy makes a futile motion to stuff something deeper into his pocket. He looks ready to bolt, and David steps closer before he can. His hand (still donut-free, he will have to go back for those) shoots up and catches the guy’s forearm through the sleeve of his dirty, stained hoodie.

  
“Don’t,” he says quietly, and the guy’s bright green eyes spark with defiance for a second. David’s getting ready for a chase, but all fight seems to leave the guy’s face in the next moment and immense weariness sets into his smudged, dirty features.

  
“What’re you, a cop?” he sneers: David has never heard a homeless guy sound so damn entitled and condescending before.

  
“Captain of the Central City Police Department,” he answers with a tiniest smirk and watches the kid’s eyes widen for a moment, before the protein bar makes it back to the shelf with utmost reluctance.

  
“I was just hungry.”

 

“I can see that,” David shrugs… and in a sudden longing for his good deed of the day, grabs the protein bar himself.

  
“What are you doing?” the kid sneers – not used to charity, or still too proud to accept it, David would say he’s not been out on the street for long. He doesn’t answer and goes on the offensive instead:

 

“You got a place to stay?”

  
“Of course not,” the guy grumbles and sticks his hands into his hoodie’s pockets (David casts a speculative look that way, but it looks like he didn’t steal anything else). “I wouldn’t have to resort to desperate measures if I did.”

 

“I got running water and a sofa,” David says before the words can actually register in his brain. The kid seems just as startled by the offer as David feels – this is a bad idea, he’s a cop, he should know better… but the kid doesn’t look violent and he’s already proven himself to be a terrible thief.  And maybe if David saves this guy from getting beaten up or killed tonight, the good karma will somehow come back to him. Maybe Allen will finally wake up from the coma so that he can come back to work and bring David the awfully late but also beautifully detailed reports instead of the shit he has to read now.

The kid stares at David for a moment – David’s just a blink of an eye away from waving it off with a ‘nevermind’ when the guy nods.

  
“As a police officer, you’re probably not likely to chop me up,” he smirks, but David hears the tremor of nerves in his voice. The kid seems to settle a little after David shows him his badge, and he’s quiet while David pays and leads him to his car.

 

He’s careful climbing in and for a second, David wonders if he’s injured: but the screwed-up grimace he gives himself looks disgusted more than pained, so David doesn’t ask.

 

“You can have the first turn in the bathroom,” he offers when he unlocks the door to his apartment. He should really start looking for a smaller place, but he’s far from ready for such a definite step away from the life he thought he had. “Fresh towels are under the sink.”

  
The guy silently moves through David’s space: he’s nearly at the open bathroom door when David calls out again.

  
“Hey.”

  
“Yes?”

  
“What’s your name?”

 

It’s not supposed to be a difficult question, but the kid’s visibly battling with something before he opens his mouth again.

  
“Hartley.”

 

“I’m David.”

 

He doesn’t say ‘nice to meet you’, neither of them do, because there’s nothing nice about the circumstances in which one of them is homeless and the other one lonely enough to _invite_ a homeless guy to his place. He’s not even sure if ‘Hartley’ is a real name or not, but it’s not like he needs someone’s credentials to offer them basic hygiene and a sofa to crash on-

 

It only sinks in that he will _have_ to sleep in the bedroom tonight when the bathroom door closes behind Hartley. David allows himself to collapse to the sofa that has been his refuge for the past seven weeks. He stares blankly at the ceiling and wonders if tonight’s the night he will be able to sleep without waking up every ten minutes, his body subconsciously disturbed by the lack of another person’s presence beside him, the absence of Rob’s quiet breathing and his radiating warmth.

 

He’s still in the same position when Hartley comes out of the bathroom: a quick glance at his watch tells David that he’s been there for more than half an hour.

 

He’s skinnier than he seemed under the dirty hoodie: with just a towel wrapped around his narrow hips, he puts himself blatantly on display, all of his pale, lean self, skin dotted with moles and stretched a little too tight over his ribs.

 

David watches him cross the twenty feet from the bathroom door to the sofa. He’s too old to pretend he doesn’t see the intent in Hartley’s eyes, but he’s frozen in place, unable to move or put a stop to this madness. Hartley’s not wearing glasses at the moment, his wet hair falling in heavy waves into his eyes, and David can’t find the strength to speak.

 

Hartley slides onto his lap in one smooth move and David’s hands immediately clutch in the fabric of the towel. It rides up a little and David shivers under the heat that is damp, naked skin pressed against his thighs. He should push the kid away, gently and firmly explain all the reasons why this is a horrible idea, but loneliness has been drowning him for too long to be able to resist the temptation. Hartley leans in, and his curvy mouth is delicious when he kisses David with wild abandon. He smells like clean skin and the oranges and cloves of Rob’s organic shampoo, and David nearly chokes on how much he wants this, but he can’t- he can’t take advantage of a homeless kid who thinks he has to do this in order not to sleep behind trash cans tonight.

  
“This isn’t what I had in mind,” he says, even if his body is screaming at him to stop talking. Hartley pulls back with a quirked eyebrow, and shit, condescension has never looked so hot to David before.

  
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those half-closeted types who don’t kiss,” he snaps, audibly offended. It startles a chuckle out of David as he shakes his head.

  
“No. But I didn’t ask for sex when I offered you a place to stay.”

  
“Obviously,” Hartley rolls his eyes _and_ his hips, eroding David’s resolve. “But I’m offering anyway. Judging by the abysmal state of this apartment, you’ve either been single for a while or recently broke up with someone, so this… arrangement could benefit both of us.”

 

Hartley is full of contrasts – observant enough for a remark like that, yet incapable of making sure nobody sees him steal; a little vulgar, and yet with a hint of shyness beyond that inviting look in his eyes. David slowly traces the guy’s hip with his thumb and swallows hard.

  
“I’d feel like I’m using you,” he mutters.

  
“Actually I believe I am the one using _you,_ ” Hartley’s lips curve into that beautiful smirk again and David finds himself mesmerized by the bow-shaped mouthful of condescension. “I need to stop thinking for a while – can you imagine how hard that is with an IQ of one hundred and seventy-four?”

 

David’s defenses are falling like a house of cards, but he has to ask one last time before he allows himself to take the plunge. And he _will_ – he can feel Hartley pulling him in by the second, and it’s a thrill mixed with worry that it’s not the right decision to make.

 

“Are you sure…?”

 

Hartley makes it abundantly clear that it’s not only _his_ decision, either, when he slams their lips together and buries his hands in David’s hair, wild and reckless and just the right amount of desperate. David pushes back from the sofa, meets Hartley halfway in an attempt to get as close as possible, and doesn’t give a flying fuck that his one good tie is soaking up the droplets trailing down Hartley’s chest. His arms wrap around Hartley’s waist and he swallows Hartley’s groan – it could be a curse or a demand, who knows with his guy, but David’s willing to take it all tonight.

…

 

For the first time in weeks, David wakes up in his bed to the sound of his alarm going off. A curse in a language David doesn’t even recognize almost startles him, but then he remembers, and smiles when Hartley cracks one eye open with the sole purpose of giving him the deadliest glare someone can manage while looking like a sleepy, rumpled kitten with hickeys all over his shoulder.

  
“Turn the fucking thing off or I’m gonna steal your shit,” Hartley growls and buries his face back into the pillow. David wants to roll over and risk being late… but he’s not sure he’s allowed, so he watches Hartley breathe for a short moment.

 

“I can _hear_ you obsessing,” Hartley groans. Yes, definitely too observant for the good of people around him, David thinks. Surprisingly, it does not wipe the smile off his face.

  
“I have to go to work,” he shrugs, and that makes Hartley stir again, rubbing at his eyes with annoyance.

 

“I’ve never been a fan of sex with morning breath, so if you want me to go, I’ll just-“

  
“Will you be here when I come back?” David jumps in.

 

Hartley blinks, then squints, then blinks again… and drapes all of the bedcovers around himself like a cocoon.

 

“I currently value your body more than your silverware,” he huffs from under all the sheets. “So come back soon and bring _food_.”

  
“Takeout okay?” David pushes his luck, and the lump of bedcovers mumbles something affirmative in response. It could be French, but David’s not sure.

 

And if he’s stupidly pleased when he watches Hartley devour two Big Belly Burgers in the evening without any complaints about heart attacks… well, he has his ways of showing his appreciation all night long.

**Author's Note:**

> Come obsess with me over Flash slash on [tumblr](http://pheuthe.tumblr.com/) :D


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